


Overlooked

by thepottermalfoyproblem



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 5 Times, Fluff, M/M, Married Characters, background ot3 if you squint, unobservant teammates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 17:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepottermalfoyproblem/pseuds/thepottermalfoyproblem
Summary: Five Times Junkrat and Roadhog were completely overlooked and two times they made their relationship impossible to ignore.Thanks to my beta. I do not know their AO3 tho.





	1. Pet Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mei makes coffee and completely misses the context.

“Oi! Roadie! Come look at the lab they let me mess with, its be-utiful!” Junkrat pulled at the big lug's arm, but he didn't move from where he sprawled across the common room couch. With a frown, Junkrat pulled harder. “Hooooog,” he whined. “Don't be like this, come see all the fancy toys they let me play with.”

Under his mask, Roadhog smirked. “Like what, Rat? I'm comfortable.” He made a show of settling deeper into the couch cushions. They had barely been in Watchpoint: Gibralter for a week, and didn't know how long they'd be staying. He was going to take as many naps on this clean couch as he could possibly get. His smirk got wider as he watched Junkrat's eyes twitch with annoyance.

The man in question flung his arms up before gesturing wildly at all of Roadhog. “Like this, you asshole! Lazin' about while I do all the work, all by me lonesome! It's unfair.”

Roadhog reached out and gently poked Junkrat in the side, derailing the man's oncoming tirade. “Idiot. You'd do it all anyway. Telling you to relax is useless, so I might as well nap for the both of us.”

Junkrat visibly deflated. “Yer right, mate. I would. Don't hurt to ask though.” He fidgeted a bit before looking back up at his partner. “When yer done napping?”

With an amused grunt, Roadhog nodded. “Sure, Rat. Now go play. I'm busy.” He watched his partner leave with no small amount of pride. Overwatch seemed to be treating him well, though getting him his own lab may have been an effort to keep explosives away from sensitive items. 

Across the room, Mei eyed Junkrat's departure suspiciously. The two Junkers had arrived on base mere days behind her. They were loud and obnoxious, and constantly called each other names. Honestly she didn't know how Roadhog put up with being Junkrat's bodyguard. 

She shrugged and went back to babysitting the coffeemaker. Clearly the man was being paid well for his efforts.

Had she looked a little closer she would have seen the plain gold band hiding among Roadhog's other, gaudier rings.


	2. Couch Snuggling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree gets too absorbed in historical drama to see what's right in front of his face.

Contrary to all he knew about Junkers, McCree was constantly surprised by how touchy they were. Junkrat constantly hung off of Roadhog's arms or clung to his back in battle, reminding the cowboy of a small child on a jungle-gym. Right now they sprawled across the entire common area couch, Junkrat curled up to fit, his head resting on Roadhog's belly. He would have thought they were both asleep, but he knew for a fact Roadhog snored like a freight train. The man's mask hid his eyes, but the tilt of his head suggested he was still watching the movie playing on the opposite wall.

Most everyone had gone to bed after the first movie of the night, an old spy flick everyone gleefully picked apart. Junkrat had been the loudest of the bunch, criticizing everything from the explosions (unsurprising) to the physical impossibility of the stunts (surprising). From his perch on the back of the couch, he argued with everyone and the movie itself about the likelihood of disfiguring burns and that “cars can't do that, mate! They're too heavy an... look at the fuckin' trajectory! (McCree didn't even know he knew that word) They're dead fer sure!”

He ranted for another minute, gestures getting more erratic, before coming to a sudden stop. McCree looked over to see if he'd passed out from sheer fury, but was surprised to see that Roadhog had tugged him off the back of the couch and was holding him tight to his side. Junkrat flailed weakly for a moment before going still. “Sorry Hog. Was getting' a bit loud.”

“Just watch the movie. Pick it apart later,” said Roadhog, shifting so he took over the whole couch, Junkrat settled against his legs and belly. They stayed like that until the credits rolled, Junkrat taking notes on a battered tablet produced from one of his many pockets. After everyone else had wandered off to bed or their labs, Roadhog stayed, arm draped loosely over Junkrat's shoulders.

“Hey cowboy,” he said, startling McCree from where he was curled around a cup of coffee meant to ward off nightmares. “Any objections to Jane Austen?”

“What,” said McCree with no small amount of confusion. “I've got no problem but... you watch Jane Austen?”

Roadhog just shrugged his massive shoulders. “Calming. Bonus, it puts this poor fuck right to sleep.” He pointed the snout of his mask at Junkrat, whose eyes were drooping as he struggled with the tablet. 

McCree chuckled, “Makes perfect sense to me.” He settled back in his chair, an overstuffed monstrosity from only God knows where. “What're we watchin'?”

“Emma. If he stays awake long enough he likes the intrigue.” 

Soon enough the movie played softly in the background, the two junkers uncharacteristically still on the couch, McCree absorbed in the absolute chaos of Emma's mistakes.

Eyes glued to the screen, the cowboy missed the way Roadhog gently rubbed one thumb along Junkrat's arm as he continued to sleep.


	3. Endless Flirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Symmetra is easily annoyed and therefore misses the obvious tension in the air.

As Junkrat's shrill voice grated through her earpiece for what seemed to be the thousandth time, Symettra barely avoided grinding her teeth in frustration. She curled her metal fingers around the edge of the balcony railing instead, ignoring the way the cheaper metal creaked under her strength. A hard light construct would be better but she had no time to tinker. 

She raised one slender finger to her ear, pressing the small comm. “Agent Fawkes, if you cannot learn to use a private channel for your bragging, I am going to take it up with the commander.”

The response was immediate. “Sorry, sheila! Just a bit of a game Roadie and I got with each other. If ya wanted ta join in, all ya had ta do was ask!” There was a pause and an explosion over the comm, punctuated with a bright flash in an alley a few blocks from Symettra's location.”Got another one, Roadie! How ya gonna beat that?”

“Easy,” grunted Roadhog, the clink of his hook's chains audible even over the sounds of chaos. “Someone has to clean up your mess.”

“Aw, fuck. Did I miss one?” Junkrat sounded disappointed, but only for a second as there was another explosion and a raucous cheer from the bomber. “A two-fer! I'm on a roll today!”

Symmetra sighed, resigning herself to a day of misery. Whenever the two junkers went out on a mission together, they talked incessantly about the most inane things. And by “they” she meant Junkrat. Roadhog barely said anything, just the occasional grunt of agreement and the steady count of fallen enemies. 

Symettra hated it. It was pointless and grating, a far cry from the orderliness of Vishkar. An unwanted reminder that she had left Vishkar behind.

Then she found herself flung into battle and there was no more time for thought. The heat in the smaller junker's voice every time he hurled an insult across the battlefield and the way Roadhog's answering rumble sounded a little bit more unsteady as the day went on sailed past her ears as she concentrated on more pressing concerns.


	4. Passing Touches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercy is too nice for her own good, tbh.

If Mercy had to guess she would tell you that Jamison Fawkes was touch starved. He was extremely tactile around people he trusted, brushing his flesh fingers across shoulders and purposefully bumping his own shoulder against others as he passed. It was his own brand of affection, his own way of showing that he trusted those around him. 

The one to benefit the most from this display of touch seemed to be Mako. Jamison clung to him whenever he could, piggybacking back from battle or draping himself across the larger man during team movie nights. For bodyguard and employer they were very close, close as those who had lived through hell and come out the other end alive, but not unscathed. 

Mercy had seen them in the kitchen once, late at night and long after nearly everyone else had retired for the night. Mako had been standing at the counter, slowly stirring a mug of tea as Jamison leaned against him, falling over tired but unable to sleep. “Here, drink this,” Mako had said, gently wrapping the other man's fingers around the warm mug.”Slowly, Rat. Its hot.”

Jamison took a sip and grimaced, “Hot fucking leaf water. Ya sure know how to spoil me.” At Mako's flat stare he sighed and took another sip. “As long as it knocks me out. You try staying up for four straight days with no naps.”

“I have.” Mako smoothed back Jamison's hair with one enormous hand. “C'mon, lets get to bed.”

Mercy, feeling like she was intruding, backed away and glided silently down the hall.

She missed Junkrat leaning into the touch with a contented hum and Roadhog's thumb brushing across his sooty cheeks.


	5. Affectionate Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji is... well, Genji.

For suspicious junkers that would explode or impale someone as soon as look at them, Genji found the resident Overwatch junkers to be surprisingly affectionate. Roadhog hung back more than Junkrat, who (once he was comfortable enough with the other agents) hugged everyone and made every excuse to be in contact with others.

It made logical sense for that familiarity to be even more evident around Roadhog. Not content with just hanging off of the larger man, Junkrat often planted kisses along the seam of the pig mask or peppered them against Roadhog's shoulder. The older man usually shrugged off his companion with a good-natured grumble, but sometimes (like today), he let him hang off of him, pressing kisses wherever he liked. 

Making eye contact with Genji, Roadhog shrugged as if to say  _ what can I do? _ Out loud he said,  “Sometimes its better to just let him. Reminds him I'm real and hes not wasting away in the outback somewhere.” 

Genji chuckled, a bit wryly.”I know the feeling,” he said, thinking of long nights spent awake and pressed against Zenyatta's side just so he could hear the monk's servos humming.

Lost in thought, he missed Junkrat pushing up Roadhog's mask to plant a lingering kiss on his full lips. 


	6. Ana Wins The Betting Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANA IS THE MOST OBSERVANT OF THE ENTIRE BASE AND YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE.

Normally, no one would dare call Roadhog impatient. Yet there he was, arms crossed and foot tapping the metallic Orca floor. He had napped most of the way back to Gibralter, but 30 minutes out from base he had rolled to his feet with a grunt and stationed himself beside the bay doors. 

Torbjorn glanced up at him from where he was cleaning sand out of his turret's joints. “Something wrong over there? You seem awfully tense.”

Roadhog snorted. “No.”

“Come to think of it you were rather testy during battle, and now you're waitin' by the door like a lost puppy.” Torbjorn frowned. “Care to elaborate?”

Ana kicked Torb from where she sat perched on the table, not looking up from the book in her hands. “Leave the poor man be, he's had a long day. We've all had a long day. I can only imagine he wants to get back and have a restful sleep in his own bed.”

“Was weird,” rumbled Hog's voice from across the Orca. “Not having Rat around. Felt... wrong.”

Torb's face softened. “Ah, that's right. This is your first mission without him. He's probably fine... if he hasn't blown up half the workshop.” This last part was muttered under Torb's breath and Ana kicked him again.

To their surprise, Roadhog chuckled, visibly relaxing at the reminder of Junkrat. “If I know my Rat, he's done more than that. Even with a broken arm.” 

Torbjorn opened his mouth to ask about the “my rat” comment, but Athena's voice cut through the cabin. 

“Now arriving at Watchpoint: Gibraltar. Commander Winston would like you all to know debrief can wait until tomorrow, and to enjoy your evening.”

From where he lay sprawled across the bench, one arm slung over his eyes, Morrison grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like it started with “back in my day...” but was interrupted by Ana smacking him in the leg with her book.

The Orca rocked gently as it landed, the distinctive thump of its feet making contact echoing throughout the hull. There was a flash and then Tracer skidded to a halt in the main cabin, a grin plastered across her face. “Here and whole everyone! And with a free evening to boot!” The bay doors started lowering and she was gone, a silver streak across the hanger and past the small gathering by the door.

To Torbjorn's surprise, Roadhog was right behind her, hurdling across the metal plates of the hanger floor towards the bright orange eyesore that was Junkrat. The demolitions expert looked startled for a moment, then his face broke into the widest grin Torb had ever seen and flung his arms wide.

“Hooley Dooley! Ya won't believe how much ya missed, Hoggie! 'Gita and I built a while new kinda bomb and flung it out to sea with her flail and we should really try that with your hook sometime and... ooph!” He was cut off as Roadhog crashed into him, catching him up in a crushing hug. His arms flailed for a second, then he wrapped them around Hog's broad shoulders. “Missed you too, you big lug.”

“Shut up,” rumbled Roadhog, then he was leaning back, fumbling with the straps on the back of his mask, yanking it off his face before pulling a grinning Junkrat into a kiss.

Torbjorn felt his eyebrows raise into his hairline. Someone – it sounded suspiciously like Jesse – wolf-whistled. Junkrat freed one hand from where it gripped Roadhog's harness just long enough to flip the whistler off, then went right back to making out in full sight of all.

Still on the Orca, Ana smiled to herself and started calculating her winnings. She at least knew how to observe with her remaining eye. It wasn't her fault that the entire rest of the base seemed blind as bats.


	7. An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The songbird has landed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ship it.

The first time Junkrat heard they were getting a new person on base, he shrugged the information off in favor of noisily slurping his third cup of tea and ignoring the eye tic developing on Symmetra's face. Some military something or other, McCree said... and then the rest of his words were background noise to the mental construction of a new and improved bomb. 

He was getting better about compartmentalizing his thoughts. The doc said it was cause he was out of the irradiated Australian outback, but Junkrat attributed it to necessity. He'd never been around so many people that weren't trying to kill each other.

That certainly took some stress off his mental faculties.

The next time someone mentioned the new recruit, Junkrat couldn't help but let his ears perk at the mention of their mech. Lena said something about “a right wiz with mechanics! Should fit right in!” while winking and nudging Brigitte, who blushed red and stammered something out about being too busy for that kind of thing.

“I know a brilliant sheila with a mech,” said Junkrat, almost conversationally. He gave himself a mental pat on the back, look at him engaging in normal small-talk.

Two sets of eyes rounded on him, curious. “Yeah?” said Lena. “Mako said something about mech fights, are you talking about the Junkertown Queen?”

Junkrat snorted. “Not fuckin' likely. Nah, Songbird lived with us for a while and fought in the mech tourny. Lost to a ball o' fuckin' death but she was brilliant. Chipper as could be, even with her mech falling to pieces around her.” He knew he had a fond smile on his face, one he usually reserved for Roadhog, but he couldn't help it. Hana had been an amazing friend the year before they'd left Junkertown for good. She'd left the same time they had, wished them well and then disappeared with a promise she'd come find them when she was done with whatever it was she had to do.

Lena's eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Well, the new recruit should be arriving this evening. You and Mako are welcome to come meet them.”

“Maybe I will,” said Junkrat dismissively, going back to his tinkering. Bombs don't build themselves, you know.

\-----

For all his mechanical intelligence... Junkrat could be dumb as a sackful of bricks. At least, this is what Roadhog thought as he read through the dossier they had been forwarded that morning. Jamison had a bad habit of never reading anything that came through his comm unless it was specs for a new piece of equipment. Which meant he had missed the dossier of one Hana “D.Va” Song in his inbox that morning. 

Mako wasn't going to be the one to ruin that surprise. But he definitely could ensure it. 

With a grunt he dismissed his holoscreen and stood, taking a moment to luxuriate in slowly stretching his limbs. It was nice to have ceilings tall enough he could do that and not smack his knuckles. He started towards the door and paused, hand halfway to his mask on its peg. Everyone had seen his face the other day, the air on base was clean, and it wasn’t like Hana didn’t know him… he left the mask where it hung.

Cool air felt strange on Mako’s face as he strolled nonchalantly down towards the hangers, well... as much as a 7 foot 500 pound giant of a man could look nonchalant. As he walked, he tapped out a message on his comm, considering who best to send it to, since Junkrat certainly wouldn’t pay attention. Not even to his own husband.

Snorting in amusement, Mako sent a group message to the Lindholm girl and Tracer, since they seemed to hang around Junkrat most often. 

**Hog:** _Make sure Rat comes to the hanger. Surprise for him._

A few moments ticked by, the ellipses signifying typing stretching into eternity.

**Tracer:** _ Isn’t the new agent coming in today? Why would that be a surprise? _

Mako thought about how much to tell them before settling on a simple version of the truth.

**Hog:** _ Old friend. Since there’s a lack of Rat chattering my ears off, he hasn’t read his comm today. _

There was significantly less delay to the next response.

**Tracer:** _ Right! We’ll get him there! No worries! _

Slipping his comm back in his pocket, Mako strode into the hanger, scarred lips twisted into what might have once been called a grin. He wasn’t surprised to find that Morrison and Ana were already there, old soldiers holding up the back wall and bickering. Mako joined them as Ana raised an eyebrow at his maskless state.

“Hana’s an old friend,” he said in response to Ana’s voiceless question. Her eyebrow only rose higher and Mako chuckled, the sound still a rumble but strange without his mask. “We didn’t spend all our time in the outback alone. We occasionally entertained houseguests.”

“Houseguests.” Ana’s voice was flat and disbelieving.

Mako’s grin grew wider. “Isn’t that what you call it when a sprite of a girl shows up on your doorstep and says, ‘The lady at the tattoo shop in town…”

“...said I could get some damned peace and quiet out here. Now where can I put my mech?” Mako used all his willpower not to jump as a familiar voice finished the sentence. He whirled around to find Hana grinning at him. “Hey big guy. Those two not tell you I got in early?” She laughed as Mako scooped her up in a crushing hug. “I missed you too, Mako. Is Jamie around?”

Instead of setting her down, Mako perched Hana on his shoulder. “A couple of his friends are bringing him down. Was gonna surprise him.”

As if on cue, Junkrat’s voice filtered through the hanger doors. “Where are you taking me!? I was in the middle of a breakthrough, and now I’ll have to start over! I’ve half a mind to leave traps in your beds, have fun explaining that to Mercy.”

Mako and Hana exchanged a look of fond exasperation. “He hasn’t changed, has he?”

“No amount of civilization can take the Junker out of that one.” 

A flash of blue streaked across the floor and Tracer skidded to a stop next to the group. “We had to enlist some help, but one pissed-off demolitions expert, as requested!” Mako felt his eyebrows raising as Zarya strode through the door, a flailing Junkrat under one arm, Brigitte following close behind with a grin on her face. Most of the other agents on base filed into the hanger after her, curious at the commotion.

Behind him, Ana coughed to cover her laugh. Morrison sighed and pushed away from the wall. “I want no part of… whatever this is. Welcome to the base, Agent D.Va.”

“Thank you, sir!” chirped Hana, and Mako watched with amusement as Junkrat suddenly stopped struggling and whipped his head in their direction.

“Songbird?” 

Zarya dropped him on the floor and he popped upright, only to nearly fall over in his haste. Hana laughed, delighted, as Junkrat flung himself at the pair, nearly knocking her off her perch. Mako was unaffected.

“Yeah, it’s me, idiot.” She said, patting the top of Rat’s head. “Did you think I wouldn’t hear of the pair of you joining Overwatch and wouldn’t come running? Far easier to convince the army I need to join a global peacekeeping force than a global crime spree.”

“Crime spree was fun though.” Junkrat mumbled into Mako’s chest.

“Mm hmm, I’m sure it was,” Hana paused for a second, and Mako could hear the devious grin in her voice. “Speaking of… how was the honeymoon?”

Mako felt every set of eyes in the room land on them as McCree started to stutter out, “wait, they’re married??” 

Ana patted Mako’s arm as she walked past, following Morrison’s example. “Honestly, Jesse, you call yourself a blackwatch agent?”

In the ensuing confusion, Mako scooped up Rat and the three slipped out. They had a lot of catching up to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this! It started out as just a 5-1 story and then I got preoccupied with the idea that mekabattle!Dva probably knew the two of them before they got married.
> 
> Also I ship the three of them, but only in this context and several years down the road from the current game time. Sorry, not shipping a teen with a 48 year old man. 
> 
> Anyway, roadrat is life, and fluffy domestic roadrat gives me strength.


End file.
